THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


^df^ 


EVENING    SONGS 

BY 

VITEZSLAV   HALEK 

From  the  Czech  Original 
TRANSLATED  BY 

DR.  JOSEPH   STYBR 


BOSTON 

RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

THE    GORHAM    PRESS 


Copyright,  1920,  by  Joseph  Stybr 


All  Rights  Reserved 


Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 


The  Gorham  Press,  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


5  OS.-: 
Hi3  A  n  £ 


INTRODUCTION 

Vitezslav  Halek,  whose  little  volume  of  verses 
is  herewith  presented  to  the  reader  in  English 
translation,  belonged  to  the  romantic  and  Ij^ric 
school  of  Czech  poesy  during  the  second  half  of  the 
last  century.  He  was  born  in  1835  and  died  in 
1874.  From  his  first  appearance  in  literature  in 
1858  he  held  his  nation  at  attention  and  enjoyed 
its  admiration  and  love  for  twenty  years.  During 
that  time  he  produced  a  line  of  works  touching  upon 
nearly  all  classes  of  writing;  however,  the  lyric 
string  of  his  lyre  proved  to  be  the  most  charming 
one,  and  this  little  volume  of  Evening  Songs  proved 
to  be  his  culminating  point.  As  an  expression  of 
fragrant  effusions  of  feeling  it  alwaj's  appealed  to 
the  tenderness  of  youthful  hearts  and  was  eagerly 
sought  and  read,  so  that  the  book  in  the  original 
appeared   in   many  editions. 

Should  the  little  volume  bring  real  pleasure  to 
the  reader  and  induce  others  to  open  wider  the 
doors  to  the  rich  and  charming  Czech  literature 
for  the  readers  in  English,  the  effort  of  the  trans- 
lator would  be  well  rewarded. 

The  Translator. 


552115 


CONTENTS 


as  in  the  sky  rises  the  moon     .... 

At  prophets  cast  ye  never  stones 

Blest  is  the  man  whom  the  Lord's  hand 

Day  and  night  went  each  their  way,  The 

Deep  silence  reigns — it  see.ms  to  me   . 

Don't  wonder,  shouldst  Thou  chance  to  hear 

From  heaven  angels  come  to  earth     . 

God  summoned  me  to  paradise    . 

God's  world  is  so  far  and  wide,  The 

Greatest  hero  is  not  he,  The    . 

Heavens  are  replete  with  stars,  The 

He's  going  far  fro.m  home     .... 

He  who  can  strike  the  golden  strings 

Hey,  in  the  rounds  what  pleasure 

Humming  of  the  trees  has  ceased.  The 

I  am  A  linden  with  large  crown 

I  am  the  knight  from  the  old  tale 

I  bade  the  trumpets  to  be  blown  . 

I  do  not  know,  was  it  a  dream? 

I  thought  to  myself,  with  no  love 

Ir  all  the  world  lost  its  delight  . 


PAGE 

S3 

71 

67 

55 

48 
58 
72 
17 

59 

32 

33 
75 
70 
60 

13 
21 

12 
69 
45 
50 
37 


Contents 


If  that  poor  nightingale       .... 

In  the  sky  the  moon  was  standing 

It  happened.    My  soul  minus  Thee 

It  seemed  to  me — Grief  had  grown  old 

Moon  sails  slowly  in  the  sky,  The 

Much  has  been  trusted  to  Thy  hands 

My  God,  of  all  things  I  aspire 

My  lips  were  lockt  a  long,  long  time 

My  pillow  was  of  sorrow  made 

My  sweetheart,  come,  kneel  down  with  me 

My  sweetheart,  come,  sit  close  to  me 

My  sweetheart,  I  dreamt  Thou  hadst  died 

My  sweetheart,  look  at  those  two  clouds 

Night  is  fair  and  transparent.  The 

Now  go,  my  darling  children,  go    . 

Of  my  songs  I  shall  build  Thy  throne 

Once  as  I  through  the  golden  stars 

Scorching  heat  of  noonday  sun.  The 

Should  I  tell  Thee  the  secret  tale 

So  many,  many  things  there  are 

So  OFTEN  it  appears  TO  ME 

Spring  came  flying  from  afar,  The 
Stars  upon  the  heavens  there,  The 
Stars  by  the  hundreds  dot  the  sky 
Tell  wherein  thou  hast  sinned,  my  heart 
That  deep  and  dark  blue  heaven's  bowl 


i8 

74 
26 

49 
76 
68 
66 
64 
62 
20 
29 
39 
77 
43 
73 
57 
30 
35 
19 
41 
22 
II 
31 
15 
36 
46 


Contents 

PAGE 

That  little  bird  sings  all  the  time 47 

That  nightingale  has  not  retired 24 

That  young  little  singer  there 52 

There  were  two  thoughts,  two  thoughts  of  God  .  51 

Those  stars,  those  fair  wee  little  stars      ...  44 

Thou  art  still  but  a  youthful  bud 23 

Thou  hast  laid  Thy  hand  on  my  head      ....  56 

Thou  maiden,  charming  most  of  all 25 

Though  all  the  world  has  gone  to  sleep     ...  14 

Thy  beautiful  eye  is  a  lake 28 

'Tis  wrong  for  men  to  lack  in  song 63 

Up  in  the  oak  tree  a  dove  wailed 42 

Upon  the  sky  the  moon  and  stars 34 

What  charm  is  there  in  love  for  us 16 

What  matters  it  what  in  sweet  songs     ....  38 

When  God  felt  His  supreme  delight 40 

When  I  gaze  at  Thee,  darling  mine    .     .     .    ^.     .  27 

When  I  shall  trust  my  corpse  to  earth  ....  65 

Ye  all  who  deem  yourselves  oppressed  ....  54 

Ye  little,  ye  wee  little  stars 61 


EVENING  SONGS 


EVENING   SONGS 


I 


The  spring  came  flying  from  afar; 
With   fresh   desires  all's  teeming; 
All  things  pressed  fon\^ard  to  the  sun — 
So  long  all  had  been  dreaming! 

The  finches  flew  out  of  their  nest 
And  children  from  their  bowers, 
And  on  the  meadows  sweetest  scents 
Breathe  countless  little  flowers. 

Young  leaves  press  their  way  from  the  twigs 
And   from   birds'   throats  their  voices, 
And  in  the  heart  with  budding  love 
The  youthful  breast  rejoices. 


II 


Evening  Songs 


II 


I  am  the  knight  from  the  old  tale 
Who  proudly  to  the  far  world  rode 
To  see  the  lass  who's  like  a  rose 
And  to  discover  her  abode. 

Who  would  behold  her — said  her  fame — 
Would  by  a  ban  at  once  be  struck; 
His  heart  would  be  rent  from  his  breast, 
Or  he  would  change  to  be  a  rock. 

Thought  I  to  myself,   possibly 
For  clemency  there  might  be  room. 
I  ventured  out  and  for  my  sin — 
Became  a  bard  by  rigid  doom. 


12 


Evening  Songs 


III 

The  humming  of  the  trees  has  ceased, 
Their  leaves  breathe  calmlj^  neatly; 
The  bird  is  dreaming  its  fair  dream 
So  quietly,  so  sweetly. 

The  heavens'  stars  have  all  come  out. 
All   things   rest  in   calm   gladness, 
But  in  the  breast  the  sorrow  wakes 
And  in  the  heart  the  sadness. 

The  fragrant  blossom's  pretty  cup 
Receives  dew  in  its  centre — 
My  God,  and  I,  too,  feel  that  dew 
In  mine  eyes  gently  enter. 


13 


Evening  Songs 


IV 

Though  all  the  world  has  gone  to  sleep, 
The  heart  wakes  in  the  body, 
And  God  himself  knows  that  the  heart 
Ne'er  sleeps  for  anybody. 

The  whole  God's  world  is  silence-bound, 
The  heart  still  goes,  well  rated, 
And  God  himself  knows  that  the  heart 
Gets  never  fatigated. 

Sleep  is  the  conqueror  of  thought, 
Night  is  day's  alternation — 
But  in  the  breast  the  heart  e'er  wakes 
And  guards  its  love's  sweet  passion. 


14 


Evening  Songs 


Stars  by  the  hundreds  dot  the  sky 
With  sister  Moon  at  leisure, 
And  God  and  angels  view  the  world 
From  heaven's  height  with  pleasure. 

A  smiling  angel's  coming  down 
To  earth  as  heaven's  vision — 
Fair  as  the  fragrant  breath  of  spring, 
And  love  is  his  sweet  mission. 

Wherever  he  just  passes  by 
All's  stricken  with  sweet  passion, 
And  nightingales  and  fair  white  doves 
All  sing  with  animation. 

And  he  whom  his  white  wing  does  touch 
Is  transformed  all  over. 
And  something  sweet  enters  his  breast 
That  human  words  can't  cover. 


15 


Evening  Songs 


VI 

What  chann  is  there  in  love  for  us, 
My  God,  and  why  we  love  it? 
The  world  would  all  dissolve  in  it 
And  lives  all  in  love  of  it. 

The  little  cloud  sails  through  the  sky 
As  though  love's  message  drove  it; 
The  little  bird  that  sleeps  in  twigs 
Is  dreaming  only  of  it. 

And  here,  too,  on  the  earth  the  man, 
While  death  his  head  does  covet, 
He  weeps,  rejoices,  longs  and  lives 
And  dies  for  the  sake  of  it. 

Indeed,  the  heaven's  angel  choir 
With  their  harps'  music  prove  it — 
What  would  they  sing,  if  not  allowed 
To  play  and  to  sing  of  it ! 


i6 


Evening  Songs 


VII 

God   summoned   me  to   Paradise 
To  get  me  educated. 
"  'Tis  hard  for  me  to  be  alone!" 
The  Lord  then  Eve  created. 

He  took  not  one  rib  from  my  breast, 
My  heart  in  half  he  parted. 
That  is  why  my  heart  still  tends  back 
From  where  Thine  once  had  started. 

And  that  is  why  such  strange  desires 
So  oft  in  my  heart  gather, 
And  I  feel  as  though  both  our  hearts 
Should  grow  again  together. 

And  that  is  why  when  I'm  away 
Pain  to  my  heart  is  creeping, 
My  foot  does  of  itself  turn  back, 
And  I  am  sad — to  weeping. 


17 


Evening  Songs 


VIII 

If  that  poor  nightingale 
Lived  always  with  her  mate, 
Her  love  songs  would  not  sound 
So  sad  and  desolate. 

If  that  poor  heart  but  would 
With  Thee  wake  through  the  night, 
Instead  of  pain  it  Vv^ould 
Resound   with  sweet   delight. 


Ereriinff  Songs 


IX 


Should  I  tell  Thee  the  secret  tale 

As  nightingale  in  the  oak  forest — 

Or  should  I  weep  in  bitter  tears 

What  sways  my  heart  and  gives  it  no  rest? 

Or,  kneeling  down,  with  ardent  words 
Should  I  in  prayer  spell  my  passion — 
Or  in  a  fair  and  tranquil  night 
Out  of  my  dream  breathe  my  confession? 

Or  should  the  hidden  paradise 
Sleep  in  my  heart's  depth,  never  uttered, 
Like  in  a  grave,  and  far  from  Thee 
My  love  in  secret  be  but  muttered? 

O  angel  mine,  I  do  confess 
My  love  for  mankind,  never  dying; 
But  toward  Thee — O,  don't  chide  me, 
That  my  mind's  weak  and  undefying!     " 


19 


Evening  Songs 


X 


My  sweetheart,  come,  kneel  down  with  me. 
Now  is  the  time  for  us  to  pray — 
The  moon  has  risen  o'er  the  woods, 
And  my  time  has  just  passed  away. 

But,  darling,  do  not  clasp  Thy  hands; 
Embrace  me  as  I  Thee  with  mine — 
And  thus,  instead  of  clasping  hands. 
Two  hearts  will  in  one  prayer  join. 

Thy  lips  then  press  Thou  close  to  mine ; 
From  one  mouth  let  the  prayer  rise — 
Let  me  the  words  press  on  Thy  lips, 
And  Thou  send  them  to  Paradise, 

Our  prayer  shall  be  strong,  indeed. 
Our  offer  purest  in  that  case — 
For  angels,  too,  when  they  do  pray, 
Are  praying  just  in  such  embrace. 


20 


Evening  Songs 


XI 

I  am  a  linden  with  large  crown, 
In  style  dressed  in  the  meadow: 
Thou  beautiful,  sweet  rose  of  May, 
Come  to  my  cooling  shadow. 

Here  each  green  leaf  does  odor  breathe 
And  swarms  of  bees  are  humming, 
And,  nightly,  little  birds  arrive — 
Those  are  my  thoughts,  home  coming. 

They  fly  far-off  as  children  do 
From  home  until  they  hunger, 
But,  with  Thee  seated  close  to  me, 
They  will  depart  no  longer. 


21 


Evening  Songs 


XII 

So  often  it  appears  to  me, 
As  I  embrace  and  love  Thee, 
That  Thou  art  for  me  in  the  world 
And  I  for  the  sake  of  Thee. 

'Tis  difficult  through  life  to  pass 
Avoiding  all  deflection; 
But  to  give  others  happiness 
Is  greatest  satisfaction. 

And  if  the  king  enjoys  his  crown 
And  God  has  heaven's  Eden 
And  birds  have  forest  in  the  spring, 
I  do  have  Thee,  my  maiden. 


22 


Evening  Songs 


XIII 

Thou  art  still  but  a  youthful  bud 
Just  into  the  world  looming, 
And  yet  upon  Thy  cheek  appears 
A  beautiful  rose  blooming. 

And  it  is  such  a  dainty  rose 
And  such  a  fragrant  blossom 
That  soon  a  fire  burns  in  the  soul 
And  yearning  in  the  bosom. 


23 


Evening  Songs 


XIV 

That   nightingale   has  not   retired 
And  she's  with  song  all  ringing; 
That  song  of  love,  so  long,  my  God, 
When  will  she  be  done  singing? 

From  one  twig  to  another  twig. 
From  upper  to  the  nether — 
And  I  believe  that  the  same  plight 
In  hearts  we  bear  together. 

A:id  turning  up  her  serene  eye 
She  looks  in  each  direction — 
And  I  believe  that  I  could  guess 
What  is  her  eyes'  attraction. 


24 


Evening  Songs 


XV 

Thou  maiden,  charming  most  of  all, 
O  Thou,  world's  greatest  treasure, 
In  Thee  I  found  my  sweet  delight, 
Thou  art  my  cherished  pleasure. 

Thou  art  as  pure  as  morning  drops 
That  come  from  heaven's  dewing 
And  graceful  as  the  turtle  dove 
When  she  her  song  is  cooing. 

Thou  art  fair  as  the  lily  white 
That  in  sweet  odor  guises 
And  noble  as  the  morning  star — 
The  day  dawns  as  she  rises. 


25 


Evening  Songs 


XVI 

It  happened.     My  soul  minus  Thee 
No  longer  feels   itself  as  whole ; 
To  think  myself  without  Thee  once 
Would  be  as  to  have  lost  my  soul. 

Yes,  Thou  art  woven  in  my  soul 
Thou  art  her  pride  and  her  delight — 
Thou  art  my  solace,  my  desire, 
My  happiness — my  pain  and  plight. 

From  joyless  days  Thou  heaven  weav'st 
As  does  the  bride  her  wedding  dress ; 
In  me  Thou  wak'st,  in  me  I'hou  dream'st; 
What  I'm,  what  Thou,  is  hard  to  guess. 

It  matters  not  what  my  fate  be — 
For  I  know  well  its  weaving  hand. 
And  should  Thy  hand  destruction  bring. 
On  that,  too,  heaven  might  depend. 


26 


Evening  Songs 


XVII 

When  I  gaze  at  Thee,  darling  mine — 
Thou  art  a  dove — though  sweeter — 
Delightful,    playful,   gentle,   tame, 
When  her  mate  comes  to  meet  her. 

And  I  can  scarcely  gaze  enough 
At  Thine  eyes   and   cheeks'   blossom — 
Thine  eyes  are  but  two  dark  blue  gates 
To  Thy  deep  charming  bosom. 

And  I  can  scarcely  gaze  enough 
At  Thy  sweet  face  reflection — 
Through  it  Thy  whole  heart  speaks  to  me 
And  soul  without  deception. 

When  I  gaze  at  Thee,  darling  mine — 
O  manna's  sweet  dispenser! — 
Are  not  those  the  same  lips,  indeed, 
That  gave  me  "yes"  for  answer? 


27 


Evening  Songs 


XVIII 

Thy  beautiful  eye  is  a  lake 
In  darkness  gently  waving; 
In  it  the  bright  lights  of  the  night 
And  heavens'  blue  are  laving. 

And  as  pure  cr^^stal  it  is  clear, 
One  sees  the  bottom  in  it — 
But  who  attempts  to  look  in  deep 
Will  shortly  be  drowned  in  it. 


28 


Evening  Songs 


XIX 

My  sweetheart,  come,  sit  close  to  me, 
Allow  me  to  embrace  Thee; 
The  Lord  gave  Thee  an  angel's  soul 
From  heaven,  just  to  grace  Thee. 

I  feel  that  I  should  speak  to  Thee 
And  make  confessions  often. 
But  my  words  stay  locked  in  my  mouth 
And  dead  as  in  a  coffin. 

And  often  what  I'd  like  to  say 
Appears  unutterable, 
For,  though  the  soul  is  filled  with  it, 
The  tongue  to  speak's  unable. 

But  as  I  wind  my  arm  'round  Thee 
And  my  soul  in  Thine  enters, 
I  feel  as  though  Thou  knowest  all 
What  on  my  tongue  then  centres. 


29 


Evening  Songs 


XX 

Once  as  I  through  the  golden  stars 
Up  heavenward  was  gazing, 
It  seemed  to  me  Thou  wert  a  saint 
And  I  an  angel  blazing. 

Then  I  a  harp  took  to  my  hand 
And  songs  to  Thee  I  chanted 
Until  the  saints'  songs  died  away 
And  all  eyes  to  us  slanted. 

And  God  the  Father  for  a  while 
Himself  ceased  in  creation. 
And  down  His  cheek  there  seemed  to  roll 
A  diamond  of  compassion. 


30 


Evening  Songs 


XXI 


The  stars  upon  the  heavens  there 
Are  worlds  of  greatest  features, 
And  I  would  only  like  to  know 
What  kind  they  have  of  creatures. 

If  some  one  from  that  height  up  there 
At  us  'way  down  here  gazes, 
And  if  he  up  there  like  I  here 
His  voice  in  love  songs  raises. 


31 


Evening  Sonffs 


XXII 

The  greatest  hero  is  not  he 
For  blows  with  blows  who's  paying, 
But  he  who,  hundred  times  betrayed, 
Himself  knows  no  betraying. 

Who  after  love  can  send  a  curse 
He  never  felt  love's  passion, 
For  love  is  able  to  forgive 
And  knows  no  condemnation. 

Who  will  not  bring  a  sacrifice 

To  him  no  love  be  proffered ; 

Bad  is  the  priest  who  thinks  he's  more 

Than  that  what  he  has  offered. 

And  should  e'er  love  demand  of  me 
My  life  and  share  in  heaven — 
I  would  go  as  the  lamb  for  Thee 
To  whom  my  love  I've  given. 


32 


Evening  Songs 


XXIII 

The  heavens  are  replete  with  stars 
As  spring  time  is  with  daisies; 
Thus  everything  in  God's  great  world 
For  love  has  its  own  praises. 

The  violet's  replete  with  scent 
And  dew  in  little  blossom, 
And  that  dear  nightingale  sings  love 
From  overflowing  bosom. 

The  heavens  are  replete  with  stars, 
With  blazing  lights  all  sweeping, 
And  here  on  earth  the  living  men 
Are  singing  and  are  weeping. 


33 


Eveniriff  Songs 


XXIV 

Upon  the  sky  the  moon  and  stars, 
The  forest  full  of  voices, 
And  God  spreads  only  love  around 
In  which  the  world  rejoices. 

The  murmurs  in  young  foliage 
Change  to  low  sweet  narration; 
The  world  is  gay  and  jubilant 
And  melts  in  osculation. 

And  yet  I  know  that  somewhere  grief 
Some  youthful  heart  oppresses, 
And  that  a  secret  bitter  tear 
Some  young  pale  cheek  caresses. 


34 


Evening  Songs 


XXV 

The  scorching  heat  of  noonday  sun 
Is  my  love's  blazing  passion ; 
The  night — fair  shadow  of  the  day — 
Thy  love's  sw^eet  moderation. 

Thou   hast   set   fire  within   my  breast, 
Earth's  centre's  heat  assuming, 
But  that  fire,  unnursed  by  Thy  love, 
Will  die,   itself  consuming. 

I  dreamt  of  banquets  with  Thy  love 
And  have  but  crumbs  collected ; 
What  wonder,  then,  if  only  grief 
Is  in  my  face  reflected. 

The  heart,  indeed,  can  suffer  much, 
Oppressed  by  love's  great  hunger, 
And  whether  I  am  day  or  night 
I  now  can  guess  no  longer. 

Tis  written  thus.     The  day  and  night 
Proceed,  each  other  missing — 
But  as  the  evening's  dusk  arrives. 
They  meet,  each  other  kissing. 


35 


Evening  Songs 


XXVI 

Tell  wherein  thou  hast  sinned,  my  heart; 
My  God,  such  tribulation! 
That  what  forever  should  be  joined 
Must  live  in  separation. 

How  beautiful  the  life  would  be 
In  love  without  distressing! 
But  to  forever  yearn  and  live —  • 
Where  is  therein  a  blessing? 


36 


Evening  Songs 


XXVII 

If  all  the  world  lost  its  delight 
And  had  no  other  pleasure 
And  love  alone  was  left  behind — 
The  life  would  have  its  treasure. 

And  if  all  other  things  were  truth 
And  love  but  dreams'  delusion — 
I  would  be  ready  to  lie  down 
And  sleep  to  life's  conclusion. 

And  if  till  now  I've  only  dreamt — 
My  dreams  had  their  sweet  flavor, 
And  who  sang  me  my  lullabies 
I  shan't  forget  forever. 


37 


Evening  Songs 


XXVIII 

What  matters  it  what  in  sweet  songs 
The  nightingale  is  telling, 
Since  my  own  heart  has  left  its  place 
And  now  with  Thee  'tis  dwelling. 

And  if  her  call  rang  e'er  so  sweet 
And  into  mine  ears  chanted: 
What  matters  it,  since  in  my  heart 
And  soul  now  Thou  art  planted ! 

And  there  Thou  art,  so  charmful, 
Beyond  imagination, 
That  I'd  give  the  sky's  stars,  my  soul, 
To  Thee  in  admiration. 


38 


Evening  Songs 


XXIX 


My  sweetheart,   I   dreamt  Thou  hadst  died; 
I  heard  the  death-knells  pealing, 
And  there  were  tears  and  wails  and  cries 
And  signs  of  saddest  feeling. 

For  the  low  mound  o'er  Thy  strange  bed 
They  picked  a  tombstone  blindly, 
And  a  verse  for  Thine  epitaph 
To  write  they  asked  me  kindly. 

Oh,  folks!    Oh,  folks!  yourselves  of  stones, 
My  heart  take,  with  grief  raving. 
And  what  I   have  not  sung  before 
Use  for  the  stone's  engraving! 

You   trusted  not  in  my  pure  love 
And  scorned  my  word  and  letter — 
Now  if  the  stone  will  speak  to  you, 
You'll  understand  it  better. 


39 


Ei'ening  Songs 


XXX 

When  God  felt  His  supreme  delight, 
The  human  heart  He  molded 
And  for  eternal  memory 
His  love  in  it  He  folded. 

And  as  He  gazed  upon  the  heart 
With  eyes  divine,  forseeing, 
He  wept,  for  He  was  overjoyed 
To  see  the  blissful  being. 

But  as  He  wept,  one  of  His  tears, 
Unnoticed,  the  heart  entered. 
As  dew  falls  in  a  flower  cup, 
And  near  the  bottom  centered. 

That  is  why  love  is  a  great  grief. 
But  grief  so  sweet  and  charming 
That  pitied  must  be  all  the  hearts 
That  have  escaped  its  harming. 

That  is  why  love  is  half  of  bliss 
And  half  of  grief  a  token. 
But  if  the  tear  swells  to  a  wave, 
Then  some  heart  may  be  broken. 


40 


Evening  Songs 


XXXI 

So  manj^  many  things  there  are 
To  which  the  keys  are  lacking; 
Deep  silence  answers  all  man's  knocks 
And  foils  his  undertaking. 

Thou  human  heart !    There  sorrows  howl 
As  wolves,   by  hunger  driven, 
And  yet  that  same  heart,  oh,  my  God ! 
To  love  alone  is  given. 

'Tis  capable  of  so  much  love 
That  man's  wit  may  be  failing, 
And  he  may  as  the  lonely  dove 
In  vain  roam,  ever  wailing. 


41 


Evening  Songs 


XXXII 

Up  in  the  oak  tree  a  dove  wailed — 
Below,  a  brooklet  muttered — 
Don't  wonder,  when  I  was  to  speak, 
That  not  a  word  I  uttered. 

Can  he  speak  from  all  his  soul's  depth 
Who  does  in  strange  lands  wander? 
And  man's  too  human  that  he  should 
At  paradise  not  wonder. 


42 


.vening  bongs 


XXXIII 

The  night  is  fair  and  transparent — 
One  sees  the  heaven's  sainted ; 
The  song,  the  odor,  and  the  buzz 
Hold  the  whole  heart  enchanted. 

O  pity,  Thou  art  not  with  me, 
To  hear  with  me  and  wonder 
How  everything  here  tells  its  tale 
To  the  clear  heavens  yonder. 

How  the  whole  world  is  but  one  song 
The  universe  pervading, 
And  that  from  human  hearts  but  comes 
An  echo,  faint  and  fading. 


43 


Evening  Songs 


XXXIV 

Those  stars,  those  fair  wee  little  stars, 
The  heavens'  blue  dome  lighting, 
They  look  to  me  down  with  sweet  eyes. 
Me  upi  to  them  inviting. 

Oh  no!  ye  fair  wee  little  stars; 
You  love  that  wheel  of  heaven, 
While  I  prefer  to  stay  down  here 
Where  I  find  all  I've  craven. 

You  don't  know,   fair  wee  little  stars, 
And  think  not  what  you're  missing; 
We  have  here  heaven  on  the  earth 
In  sweet,  delightful  kissing. 


44 


Evenitig  Songs 


XXXV 

I  do  not  know,  was  it  a  dream? 
But  in  my  mind  it  lingers — 
I  saw  and  read  the  nations'  fates, 
Decreed  by  God's  own  fingers,    a 

Thoughts,  earnest  as  was  God  himself, 
Passed  through  His  great  head,  thronging 
And  beautiful  as  nights  of  spring 
For  a  sweet  body  longing. 

Some  thought — great  as  the  universe, 
Some — music  sounding  gently, 
Some — future  human  history, 
By  human  eyes  seen  faintly. 

There,  too,  I  met  with  my  own  love 
And  with  Thy  heart,  ne'er  failing, 
That  love  of  ours  appeared  there 
As  two  small   bright  clouds  sailing. 

And  God,  observing  our  sweet  love, 
Himself  with  grace  relented. 
And  throngs  of  young  angels  their  hymns 
Before  Him  on  it  chanted. 


45 


Evening  Songs 


XXXVI 

That  deep  and  dark  blue  heavens'  bowl- 
And  stars  as  golden  blossoms; 
As  man  looks  at  them  from  the  earth, 
His  heart  strange  feelings  bosoms. 

And  all  the  time  more  and  more  stars 
Appear  without  a  bound  there — 
And  yet  not  ev'r)'  little  star 
Can  easily  be  found  there. 

But  whene'er  in  two  youthful  hearts 
First  breath  of  love  does  enter, 
A  new  star  is  said  to  appear 
In  heavens'  dark  blue  center. 

And  if  in  one  of  the  two  hearts 
Love's  blossoms  starts  to  wither, 
Then  from  the  dark  blue  heavens'  bowi 
One  golden  star  drops  hither. 


46 


Evening  Songs 


XXXVII 

That  little  bird  sings  all  the  time 
As  one  song  with  life  ringing; 
So  wonder  not,  if  one  does  love, 
That  he'll  pass  life  in  singing. 

And  that  bird  speaks  from  heart  to  heart, 
And  it  knows  how,  directly, 
So  that  man  hardly  keeps  back  tears, 
If  he  knows  hearts  perfectly. 

Yes,  often  it  appears  to  me 
That  I  am  as  its  fellow, 
For  my  songs,  too,  can  move  to  tears. 
So  soft  they  are,  and  mellow. 


47 


Evening  Songs 


XXXVIII 

Deep  silence  reigns — it  seems  to  me 
Sleep  comes  to  mine  eyes,  resting, 
As  does  a  bird  come  to  its  mate 
In  their  home  softly  nesting. 

The  night's  soft  bed  is  ready  made— 
The  heavens,  with  stars  covered. 
Maybe  that  some  heart  will  forget 
For  what  this  day  it  suffered. 

Maybe  that  some  heart  will  forget, 
And  if  it  found  no  treasure. 
Maybe  it  finds  it  in  its  dream 
And  with  it  finds  its  pleasure. 


48 


Evening  Songs 


XXXIX 

It  seemed  to  me — Grief  had  grown  old, 
Soon  would  come  its  last  countin', 
And  tears — so  many  had  been  shed 
That  dry  must  be  their  fountain. 

Then  suddenly  I  thought  of  Thee, 
And  soon  my  whole  soul  shivered, 
And  as  though  I  should  lose  Thee  soon 
An  echo  in  it  quivered. 

And  mine  eyes  promptly  filled  with  tears. 
My  joy  to  grief  is  bending, 
And  I  am  finding  out  with  pain 
That  tears  shall  have  no  ending. 


49 


Evening  Songs 


XL 

I  thought  to  myself,  with  no  love 
How'd  look  tliat  world  of  ours: 
It  would  be  as  a  dreary  waste 
Without  a  trace  of  flowers. 

The  heart  would  wander  through  that  waste 

And  always  on  grief  border, 

It  would  be  sad  as  the  world  was 

Ere  God  to  light  gave  order. 

It  would  be  so  sad  that  on  earth 
Man  would  not  like  the  livin'. 
And  God  the  Father  would  not  like 
To  stay  as  God  in  heaven. 


50 


Evening  Songs 


XLI 

There  were  two  thoughts,  two  thoughts  of 

God, 
Two  stars  beside  each  other, 
And  from  all  of  the  heavens'  stars 
They  most  loved  one  another. 

Once  one  of  them  fell  to  the  earth — 
The  other  pined  in  sorrow, 
And  God,  touched  by  her  grief  and  love, 
Sent  her  down  on  the  morrow. 

They  sought  each  other  many  nights 
As  lonely  souls  their  Eden, 
Until  one  day  they  chanced  to  meet 
As  a  young  man  and  maiden. 

Their  eyes  met,  and  they  recognized 
Each  other,  tender-hearted. 
And  lived  together  in  great  bliss 
Till  one  of  them  departed. 

And  when  she  died,  she  always  called 
And  languished  for  the  other, 
Till  God  summoned  the  other  one, 
And  they're  again  together. 


51 


Evenififf  Songs 


XLII 

That  young  little  singer  there — 
Why  did  she  cease  her  narration  ? 
Her  eyes  quickly  filled  with  tears 
As  though  grieved  in  separation. 

Some  one  may  think  to  himself, 
God,  how  can  her  young  soul  darken? 
Her  face  young  and  beautiful, 
And  her  song  so  sweet  to  hearken. 

Ah,  a  beautiful  young  face 
May  not  do  in  solace  bringing; 
And  though  sweet  the  song  may  be — 
You  don't  always  feel  like  singing. 


52 


Evening  Songs 


XLIII 

As  in  the  sky  rises  the  moon — 
So  into  hearts  love  enters; 
And  secret  pain  and  silent  grief 
Around  it  often  centers. 

And  visions  man  had  not  thought  of 
He  may  see,  dimly  lighted, 
And  secret  pain  and  silent  grief 
May  be  in  song  united. 

But  gales  and  tempests  violent 
In   many  hearts  are  waking, 
And  ere  in  song  they  utter  them — 
How  many  hearts  are  breaking! 


53 


Evening  Songs 


XLIV 

Ye  all  who  deem  yourselves  oppressed, 
Come  near,  come  nearer  to  me: 
Lay  off  your  sorrows'  burdens  here 
And  light  up  your  minds  gloomy. 

I've  reared  here  a  vast  realm  of  love 
Where  mate  seeks  his  mate  pretty. 
And  what  one  harbors  in  his  heart 
Resounds  in  love's  sweet  ditty. 

No  rival  here,  no  hater's  known. 
Here  speech  is  love  song,  wooing; 
Here  lions  turn  to  calm,  meek  lambs 
And  hawks  to  doves,  sweet,  cooing. 

Here  are  all  ailments'  remedies; 
Here  hearts  are  ever  youthful; 
Here  never  fades  the  blooming  rose, 
And  friendship's  ever  truthful. 


54 


Evening  Songs 


XLV 

The  day  and  night  went  each  their  way- 
The  day,  as  Judas,  traitor, 
The  night,  so  fair,  so  beautiful, 
That  none  can  ever  hate  her. 

The  little  stars  shine  in  the  sky, 
The  moon  comes  Avith  her  pallor. 
And  in  the  forest  chats  the  dove, 
The  fair  and  tender  caller. 

The  heart  confesses  to  the  heart 
With  thoughts  in  distance  sailing, 
And  longing  lips  thirst  for  a  kiss, 
From  burning  passion  thrillmg. 


55 


Evejiing  Songs 


XLVI 

Thou  hast  laid  Thy  hand  on  my  head, 
My  temples  proud  caressing; 
Thy  lips  have  whispered  their  sweet  words 
In  prayer  and  in  blessing. 

Thou  hast  revealed  Thy  soul  to  me 
In  Thy  love's  fragrant  blossom, 
And  what  I  had  not  dared  to  dream — 
Thou  took'st  me  to  Thy  bosom. 

With  blessing  Thou  hast  graced  my  harp, 
My  heart  and  my  lips'  diction; 
To  pious  battles  Thou  hast  sent 
My  songs  with  benediction. 

My  forehead  is  from  sadness  freed. 
Fears  are  a  thing  I  scoff  at, 
My  soul  is  filled  with  dawning  light — 
And  I  am  love's  great  prophet. 


56 


Evening  Songs 


XLVII 

Of  my  songs  I  shall  build  Thy  throne 
In  st>'le  of  bards  of  greatest  fame. 
Thy  sceptre  shall  be  my  own  heart, 
My  fame  shall  be  Thy  diadem. 

Love  I  shall  declare  to  be  law, 
I  shall  sing  daily  Thine  esteem ; 
In  Thy  soul  I'll  pour  love's  delight 
And  sweetest  longing  in  Thy  dream. 

I  shall  bid  birds  to  sing  to  Thee, 
May's  flowers  shall  fall  to  Thy  feet; 
I'll  change  to  heaven  the  world  and  all 
And  there  command  the  stars  to  meet. 

I'll  make  your  subjects  all  men's  hearts. 
Revive  the  Eden  with  my  verse, 
Proclaim  Thee  high  queen  of  it  all 
Throughout  the  whole  of  universe. 


57 


Evening  Songs 


XLVIII 

Don't  wonder,  shouldst  Thou  chance  to  hear 
Birds  sing  of  Thy  love's  wooing; 
They  called  once  at  my  window  sill 
To  see  what  I  was  doing. 

And  they  again  came  and  again 
And  soon  taught  me  to  love  them, 
For  I  am  free  just  as  they  are 
And  am  just  like  one  of  them. 

I  sang  them  many  songs  of  Thee 
That  in  sweet  love  abounded, 
And  they  soon  tuned  their  throats  to  them 
Till  in  their  songs  love  sounded. 

The  other  day  I  called  on  them 
In  their  woods  and  nooks  shady 
And  was  surprised  to  find  the  birds 
To  sing  my  songs  already. 


58 


Evening  Songs 


XLIX 

The  God's  world  is  so  far  and  wide 
And  goodness  in  small  measure; 
By  thousands  one  can  count  the  pains 
And  very  little  pleasure. 

The  heart  is  ready  to  redeem 
With  hundred  pains  one  pleasure — 
And  the  same  heart,  O  God,  for  love 
Will  suffer  past  all  measure. 


59 


Evening  Songs 


Hey,  in  the  rounds  what  pleasure 
While  one  his  lass  embraces! 
Let's  have  the  charming  music — 
Come,  pale  lad,  join  our  races! 

Ah,  the  pale  lad's  whole  body 
As  though  with  cold   frost  shivered, 
And  down  his  pale  cheeks  quickly 
A  stream  of  hot  tears  quivered. 


60 


Evening  SoriffS 


LI 


Ye  little,  ye  wee  little  birds, 
Ye  song-dreamers  in  sleeping; 
Does  anyone  of  you  there  know 
That  I  die  here  from  weeping? 

Dear  moon,  stop  moving  in  the  sky 
Till  I  some  solace  gather; 
My  love's  fire's  extinct  as  art  thou — 
We  both  fit  well  together. 

The  last  flame  flickers  to  die  out, 
All  that's  left  are  words  hollow ; 
Yet  I  would  blow  all  to  new  life, 
Though  nought  but  grief  should  follow. 


6i 


Evening  Songs 


LII 

My  pillow  was  of  sorrow  made 
My  sleep  were  tears,  free  flowing; 
Go  easy,  my  heart — not  so  loud: 
Deep  penitence  I'm  showing. 

The  moon  comes  by  the  window  in, 
Gown'd  in  her  deathly  pallor, 
And  in  the  heart  a  song  died  down 
As  of  a  bird,  sad  caller. 

Dear  moon,  light  up  the  stars  on  high ; 
Let  dew  descend  on  flowers; 
Awake  from  sleep  the  nightingale, 
But  men — let  sleep  their  hours! 

You  carry  off  the  gorgeous  love — 
You  know  the  calamity; 
I  am  now  but  a  wretched  man — 
Ah,  pity,  pity,  pity! 


62 


Evening  Songs 


LIII 

"  'Tis  wrong  for  men  to  lack  in  song — " 
In  judgment  God  has  spoken — 
And  then  He  sent  a  bard  to  men 
And  gave  him  this  as  token : 

"Throughout  thy  life  have  thou  no  rest, 
Thy  bread  with  tears  be  eaten ; 
Know  thou  nought  but  hard  suffering, 
In  all  hopes  be  thou  beaten  ! 

"Though  thy  heart  be  rent  to  its  blood — 
View  that  blood  to  them  clinging; 
Though  driven  by  them  through  all  lands- 
Love  them — and  keep  on  singing!" 

That  lot  is  common  to  us  bards. 

Men  may  have  our  songs  chanted, 

But  with  what  had  brought  on  our  song — 

None  cares  to  get  acquainted. 


63 


Evening  Songs 


LIV 

My  lips  were  lockt  a  long,  long  time, 
And  mute  as  rocks  are  lonely. 
But  suddenly  they  were  unlockt 
By  Thee  with  one  kiss  only. 

That  kiss  fell  as  in  month  of  May 
On  parched  earth  falls  a  shower; 
Now  songs  began  to  sprout  again 
In  my  soul  with  fresh  power. 


64 


Evening  Songs 


LV 

When  I  shall  trust  my  corpse  to  earth 
And  my  soul  to  God's  keeping, 
I  ask  to  be  laid  as  a  bard 
Away  to  my  last  sleeping. 

Into  my  hand  I  want  the  lyre, 
On  head,  leaves  from  laure's  arbor; 
Let  my  new  neighbors  know  at  once 
Who  comes  to  their  calm  harbor. 

I  always  holy  held  the  lyre 
And  not  a  mere  toy  only: 
So  let  it  be  mine  ornament 
In  qight  long  and  place  lonely. 

Should  we  feel  lonesome  in  the  graves 
And,  maybe,  for  home  too  sick, 
Then  I  shall  sing  a  song  for  them 
And  cheer  them  up  with  music. 

And  should  in  your  lives  sluggishness 
And  sleep  here  overtake  you : 
I'll  rouse  the  dead  and  send  them  back, 
And  they  shall  come  and  wake  you. 


65 


Evening  Songs 


LVI 

My  God,  of  all  things  I  aspire 
I  here  confess,  whole-hearted; 
All  I  pray  for  is  that  from  song 
I  never  shall  be  parted. 

Shouldst  Thou  withdraw  my  gift  of  song- 
I  ask  to  live  no  longer; 
Shouldst  Thou  for  song  bid  me  take  bliss- 
I  still  to  song  cling  stronger. 


66 


Evening  Songs 


LVII 

Blest  is  the  man  whom  the  Lord's  hand 
As  bard  had  consecrated ; 
He  has  looked  into  God's  decrees 
And  has  men's  breasts  well  rated. 

He  knows  what  says  the  world's  great  psalm 
And  what  the  birds  are  singing; 
He  understands  the  throbbing  heart, 
In  tears,  and  with  joy  ringing. 

What  secret  is  to  other  men 
Is  open  to  his  vision; 
He  is  the  leader  of  God's  race 
To  its  long  promised  region. 

He  is  the  king  of  kingdoms  vast, 
The  priest  of  men's  salvation, 
And  beauties'  treasures  lie  in  him 
Beyond  all  estimation. 


67 


Evening  Songs 


LVIII 

Much  has  been  trusted  to  Thy  hands; 
My  heart  in  them  I  planted, 
And  God  placed  sweet  songs  in  that  heart 
To  have  men's  bliss  augmented, 

A  strange  plant  is  the  human  heart — 
Not  easily  to  nourish ; 
For,  it  is  up  to  love  alone. 
If  it  shall  die  or  flourish. 

A  strange  plant  is  the  human  heart — 
It  needs  the  climate's  favor 
And  dew  and  rain  and  best  of  care 
To  yield  fruit  of  good  flavor. 

So  should  my  heart  from  Thy  hands  sprout 

In  honor  of  the  nation, 

Long  ages  that  are  yet  to  come 

Shall  sing  Thine  adoration. 


68 


Evening  Songs 


LIX 

I  bade  the  trumpets  to  be  blown 
For  glorious  resurrection ; 
I  shall  in  final  judgment  sit — 
Ye  shall  hear  your  fates'  lection. 

Ye  who  have  been  opposed  to  love 
And  have  against  it  spoken : 
Ye  shall  despair  for  all  the  time, 
And  your  hearts  shall  be  broken. 

But  ye  who  always  have  kept  faith 
And  treated  love  with  favor: 
Ye  come  and  gather  on  my  right 
And  live  in  love  forever. 

To  you  in  heaven  special  place 
And  special  bliss  be  given, 
For,  having  loved  upon  the  earth, 
You  had  the  taste  of  heaven. 


69 


Evening  Songs 


LX 


He  who  can  strike  the  golden  strings 
Be  highest  honors  given, 
For  God  has  shewn  you  such  great  love 
That  He  sent  him  from  heaven. 

It's  dreadful  when  with  barren  fields 
And  plague  God  means  to  punish, 
But  greatest  scorge  visits  the  race 
From  whom  its  songs  do  vanish. 

That  nation  has  not  perished  yet 
To  whom  its  bards  are  singing: 
For  all  song  is  of  heaven's  birth 
And  life  in  death  'tis  bringing. 


70 


Evening  Songs 


LXI 


At  prophets  cast  ye  never  stones ; 
They  are  as  birds,  shy,  clever: 
Cast  thou  a  stone  at  him  but  once, 
And  he  is  gone  forever. 

God's  fearful  wrath  the  nation  seeks 
Whose  love  of  bards  is  shaken, 
And  greatest  wrath  befell  the  race 
From  whom  God  songs  has  taken. 

The  poet's  heart  is  pure  and  chaste, 
His  faith  does  never  var>^; 
Therefore,  what  he  sings  from  his  heart 
That  ye  in  your  hearts  carry! 


71 


Evening  Songs 


LXII 


From  heaven  angels  come  to  earth — 
Dreams  with  their  golden  visions, 
And  each  of  them  brings  men  in  sleep 
Delight  from  happy  regions. 

Wherever  these  fair  angels  stop, 
Men  learn  all  they  had  craven; 
For  they  know  and  tell  them  in  dreams 
Fair  tales  direct  from  heaven. 

The  eyelids  suddenly  get  sealed — 
With  sweetness  of  sleep  laden: 
Thine  image  stands  in  front  of  me — 
Good  night,  good  night — my  maiden ! 


72 


Evening  Songs 


LXIII 

Now  go,  my  darling  children,  go — 
This  is  no  more  your  station ; 
Accept  for  your  quaint  journey  yet 
Your  father's  osculation ! 

May  be,  somewhere  they'll  honor  you 
And  offer  you  receptions; 
But  somewhere  they  may  criticise — 
Be  ready  for  exceptions! 

But  let  your  mind  not  be  disturbed 
Nor  wrinkles  in  face  driven: 
All  kinds  of  men  live  in  the  world, 
But  few  to  love  are  given. 


73 


Eveninff  Songs 


LXIV 

In  the  sky  the  moon  was  standing; 
Dreams  to  me  new  songs  were  lending. 

Birds  came  and  told  one  another 
How  much  we  did  love  each  other. 

That  the  fair  fresh  meadow  flowers 
Would  be  wedding  gowns  of  ours. 

That  green  ivy  with  her  story 

Would  wreathe  Thy  head  with  its  glory. 

Adorned  with  thousand  charms, 
That  Thou  wouldst  rest  in  my  arms. 


74 


Evening  Songs 


LXV 

He's  going  far  from  home, 
With  sorrow  laden  ; 
He  turns  yet  and  looks  back — 
Good-bje,  dear  maiden  ! 

He  turns  yet  and  looks  back, 
His  kerchief  Avaving; 
With  kerchief  he  dries  yet 
Eyes  in  tears  laving. 

And  now  behind  him  closed 
A  foreign  region 
As  in  the  sky  the  lark 
Gets  lost  to  vision. 

He's  gone,  but  he'll  come  back 
Again,  joy-laden — 
But  ere  he  will  return — 
Good-bye,  dear  maiden ! 


75 


Evening  Songs 


LXVI 

(Posthumous) 

The  moon  sails  slowly  in  the  sky 
So  calmly  and  so  freely  ; 
The  nightingale  wails  in  the  twigs 
So  sweetly  and  so  really. 

Thy  image  stands  in  front  of  me 
So  calmly  and  so  freely; 
The  heart  in  longing  wakes  and  calls 
So  sweetly  and  so   really. 

A  swarm  of  songs  is  circling  'round 
So  calmly  and  so  freely; 
And  into  mine  eye  steals  a  tear 
So  sweetly  and  so  really. 

Now  gentle  sleep  knocks  at  my  door 
So  calmly  and  so  freely — 
And  I  recall  Thee  to  my  mind 
So  sweetly  and  so  really. 


76 


Evening  Songs 


LXVII 

(Posthumous) 

My  sweetheart,  look  at  those  t\vo  clouds 
Above  that  mountain  yonder — 
The  moon  sheds  her  light  on  their  way, 
And  in  close  touch  they  wander. 

The  maiden  choir  of  quiet  stars 
Is  twinkling  to  them  greeting, 
And  gentle  zephyrs  in  their  breath 
Bring  odors  to  them,  fleeting. 

Lo!  from  the  shrubs  the  nightingale 
Flew  up  with  her  narration — 
Hark  how  she  sends  her  song  to  them 
As  song's  true  incarnation ! 

My  love,  look  from  Thy  window  there 
How  those  clouds  float  together — 
I  asked  them  to  bid  Thee  "good  night," 
Sweet  dreams  'round  Thee  to  gather. 


77 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


WR'l 


J\J^9 


Form  L9-10m-3,'48(A7920)444 


THE  I.TRRARY 
-;      .    tn'  CALIFORNIA 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA-LOS  ANGELES 


L  007  657  229  6 


AA    000  640  730    8 


i 


ilii 


1 1 1 


it 


iiiiiill 


III 


":Mii!n!Uf 


11 
II 

111 


I 


